The Dream Fulfilled
by OhioOwl
Summary: A longed-for hope is realized and Don Alejandro truly opens his heart at last.
1. Confiding

The Dream Fulfilled  
1 - _Confiding_

 **The Dream Fulfilled**

 **A/N:** This story takes place about a month after _Seeds of Forgiveness_. This one is far more about Diego than it is about Zorro (although Zorro does show up briefly) with a little Don Alejandro thrown in for good measure.

Chapter 1: Confiding

It was Don Alejandro's custom to ride out and personally inspect his herds at least three times a year. He was normally accompanied by Benito and perhaps one or two other _vaqueros_ , but this year the old don was especially happy that Diego had agreed to come along. The ranch hands were also pleased. Now that Don Diego had a wife, they thought it was high time he took an interest in the running of the _rancho_.

This inspection typically took place over a number of days, since the cattle were run on several locations. But on the third day, the men were surprised when Don Diego announced that he had invited Doña Margarita to accompany them on the following morning. "She has been tired and preoccupied lately, and has not ridden for the better part of a week. I wish her to have some fresh air and sunshine. She need not be with us all day. If she becomes weary or bored, I will escort her home."

Having often visited her uncle's farm when she grew up back in Maryland, Diego's wife had a reasonable, although not expert, knowledge of cattle. Yet by early afternoon she declared that she had seen enough cowhide for one day, so she and Diego bid the rest of the party goodbye and headed back to the _hacienda_. Shortly thereafter Diego turned off to a small lake surrounded by trees, saying: "We can water the horses here." He helped her dismount and they led the horses toward the lake.

"What a pretty place!" exclaimed Margarita.

"It's one of our better sights. I used to swim here as a child," he said, smiling at her. "It's also one of my favorite places. I can't believe I haven't brought you here before now." He took the reins and led both mounts to the very edge of the lake. The horses lowered their heads to drink. He stood idly beside them, stroking his palomino's back and occasionally glancing back at his wife. Margarita sat down on a nearby log and watched him. He brought the horses up and tied the reins to a bush, then he turned to her, a look somewhere between amusement and concern on his face. "Margarita, you have been looking at me so very strangely. Is something wrong?'

She patted the log and he sat down beside her. She gazed into his hazel eyes for a moment and then asked: " _Mi corazòn_ , do you suppose Benito or one of the other _vaqueros_ could handle exercising Thunderhead for me?"

"I see no reason why not. Benito is an excellent horseman, as are several of the others. But why would you need someone to exercise Thunderhead for you?"

"Because I won't be riding for a while."

"You will not be riding?" He became alarmed. "Are you ill? Have you hurt yourself in some way?

"No, Diego, I'm not hurt or ill," was all she would say, with an enigmatic smile.

He continued looking at her with great concern. He had never seen an expression quite like this on her face before. "Well if you are not hurt and you are not ill, why else would you forgo riding?" Her only response was the smile. "You have been so tired lately and I'm sure the exercise would help you feel — " He stopped in mid-sentence as one other beautiful possibility erupted into his thoughts. "No!" he cried in happiness and amazement. "You are... you are?...Are you...?" he could not finish the question for the joy bursting in his heart.

"Yes, Diego," she replied very quietly, nodding and draping her arms around his neck. "Husband, I believe I am with child."

His face lit up as she had never seen it before, the brilliance of his smile outshining the sun. He stood and pulled her to her feet and then took her in his arms and hugged her so tightly that she had to push him away so she could breath. He was overwhelmed with so many emotions at once, and every odd bit of information he had ever heard about expectant mothers came crowding into his mind. "I'm not sure what to do next! Do you want to stay here while I fetch a carriage? Should I rub your shoulders? Can I still hug you? Do you want something to eat?" And then, in a great burst of excitement: "We must tell my father!" he practically shouted.

" _Corazòn,_ you don't need to do any of that just now. I don't need the carriage, although if I travel any distance I'll be using it from now on. As far as the hugging goes, some things will have to change in the future, but not anytime soon. And as for telling your father — not quite yet. I _believe_ I am with child, but I'm not absolutely sure. I'll know in another three weeks or so. And then we can make both of our fathers very happy! But I couldn't keep it from you any longer", she said, hugging him and resting her head on his chest. "In the meantime we just need to go about our normal everyday lives, and wait."


	2. Observation

The Dream Fulfilled  
2 - _Observations_

Chapter 2: Observations

Doña Elvira Ramirez was enjoying a cup of tea in her _sala_ when her maid/seamstress Luisa returned from market day. " _Buenos tardes_ , Señora" said the maid, entering the room.

" _Buenos tardes_ , Luisa. And how are things in the _pueblo_?" enquired her mistress.

"Very much as usual," Luisa replied. "Although I did observe something of interest."

"Come, sit, and have tea. And you will of course tell me what that was," continued her mistress, picking up the teapot and filling a cup. Some of the doñas would call Luisa a gossip. Doña Elvira preferred to think of her maid as simply someone who made it a point to be very well informed about the goings-on of the _pueblo_.

"I saw Margarita De la Vega in Señor Avila's store."

"Ah." said Doña Elvira. "And this was interesting because?"

"She was fingering the linen and the fine wool. The _very_ fine wool."

"Ah," said Doña Elvira, as her eyebrows rose slightly.

"In fact, she asked Señor Avila if he had anything that was softer."

"Ah!" said Doña Elvira, as now her voice rose slightly to match her eyebrows.

"He said he did not, but that in a few weeks something might come in. Then Señor Avila asked her if she needed it right away. Doña Margarita said that the need was not pressing, that she could wait a while."

"Ah!" said Doña Elvira once more, now smiling.

"Then the Señora De la Vega left the store and crossed the plaza to her carriage, and she was driven away."

"She did not ride her horse? She left in a carriage?"

"Sí." replied Luisa.

"Ah," said Doña Elvira, one last time, nodding. Then she continued: "Luisa, I want you to go into Los Angeles for the next three next market days whether you need anything or not. I want to know if Doña Margarita is again driven in a carriage.

" _Sí_ Señora." replied Luisa.

"And Luisa..."

"Señora?"

"...you know how to sew clothing for infants, do you not?"

"Oh s _í_ Señora!" was the smiling reply.

"We must talk about that sometime soon. Now let us have some more tea," said Doña Elvira, as she reached again for the pot.

 **A/N:** Doña Elvira has been a sort of "guardian angel" to Maggie since she and her father arrived in Los Angeles, and I thought she deserved a place in this story.


	3. Announcements

The Dream Fulfilled  
3 - _Announcements_

Chapter 3: Announcements

 **A/N:** "Suegro" means _father-in-law_ in Spanish.

Two and a half weeks later Cresencia made her normal market day trip into the pueblo — with one small variation. After making a purchase at the _farmacia_ , she slipped next door to Doctor Avila's house with a note from Doña Margarita. Five minutes later she returned to the plaza with the doctor's written reply tucked into her basket. Three days after that Cresencia suddenly remembered something extremely important that she had forgotten to buy. She ordered the buggy readied, and was only too pleased when Don Diego suggested that Doña Margarita accompany her to take some fresh air.

Upon reaching Los Angeles the two women separated, the housekeeper heading for Señor Avila's store and Doña Margarita drifting casually towards the doctor's house. Cresencia took an inordinately long time browsing the merchandise. It was only after Diego's wife rejoined her that some evidently badly needed salt was purchased. The pair returned to the buggy and headed back out of the _pueblo_.

Don Diego and Don Alejandro were in the _sala_ , reviewing the latest contract offer for the current batch of hides. They heard the two women enter by the patio gate. Margarita headed up the stairs to the balcony and their room. Cresencia came into the _hacienda_ directly. " _Buenos tardes,_ señores," she nodded, greeting her _patròns_ as she crossed the _sala_.

Don Alejandro looked up and returned the nod, but a small frown crossed his face as he watched his housekeeper make her way toward the kitchen. He turned to his son: "Why do you suppose she's smiling like that?"

"Who knows what women smile at, eh?" replied his son in what he hoped was a casual tone, exercising every bit of self control that he possessed to refrain from bolting up to their room to ask his wife about her visit to the doctor. "Uh...you know, Father, I just remembered something I had meant to ask Margarita earlier. If you could spare me for a few minutes...?"

"Certainly, Diego," replied the old don. "We are really finished here anyway." Alejandro began gathering up the contract papers.

" _Con permiso_ ," replied Diego, bowing and forcing himself to walk slowly across the room and out the door to the patio. Once out of his father's sight he ran up the steps to the door of their room and pushed it open. "Well?" he asked anxiously.

She had just put away her folded shawl and was standing next to the dresser, her hand on her belly. When he appeared at the doorway, she looked up at him and broke into a brilliant smile. "Yes!" she said, nodding. "Doctor Avila confirms that I'm with child!" They flew across the room into each other's arms, Diego first holding her as tightly as he had at the lake, then, remembering, he loosened his grasp. They stood together for a long moment, she feeling secure in his love and the strength of his embrace, he savoring the warmth and softness of her body next to his. When they at lasted parted, he said, "At last we can tell my father. It has been difficult for me to act normal around him these past few weeks."

"Yes, well, it's been a little difficult for me, too. Shall we tell him now?"

"I think this evening, over an after-dinner brandy. Presently he has many business matters before him. I would like him to be able to enjoy our news to the fullest. We can keep our secret for just a few hours more, can't we, _querida_?"

Dinner began pleasantly enough. Don Alejandro complimented Rosa on the meal and especially her fresh bread. The elder don was also pleased with the flavor of the new vintage that he had uncorked that day. Diego had been to the mission to trade books with Padre Filipe. He told of how the younger children at San Gabriel had asked for and were given a small vegetable plot to work all on their own. The padres were skeptical that the plants would be able to survive childish weeding, trampling, and occasional neglect to ever produce anything edible, but were pleased at their young charges' enthusiasm.

Diego also mentioned that while he was there Celestino had arrived, returning a repaired harness. The young Indian looked taller than Diego remembered, and his shoulders somewhat broader. The boy seemed happy, especially when he told them about how Señor Gonzales was teaching him more of the blacksmith's craft. He proudly announced how he could now use both the light and the heavy hammers at the anvil, although he admitted rather sheepishly that it would be a long time before his horseshoes actually looked like horseshoes.

But then the conversation turned to the upcoming harvest of hides. "In two weeks the _vaqueros_ will begin culling out the animals for slaughter," stated Don Alejandro. "It should be a profitable year."

"I noticed the other day while we were at the herd that you talked about taking a number of the younger steers," offered Margarita. "Wouldn't you get a larger hide, and therefore a better price, if you let them go for another year?"

"A larger hide, perhaps yes," responded her father-in-law. "But against that is the quantity of grass and feed that they consume in the extra year. It has so far not proved to be worth it."

"Still, have you ever tried it? My uncle never took a steer younger than three years for anything."

Diego observed a furrow forming between his father's brows and a darkening of his father's expression — a sure sign of displeasure. He shot a warning look across the table to his wife, but she was still looking at his father and did not see it.

"I assure you," continued the old don, his tone becoming terse, we have managed our herds this way very well for many years."

"But what would it hurt to try it for just one year and see —" she persisted.

"Enough!" exclaimed the elder De la Vega, throwing down his napkin. "When I need advice on how to run my cattle I have many friends far more experienced than you whom I can ask!"

Margarita and Diego both stared at him. Then something happened at the table that had never happened before. Margarita burst into tears, jumped up, and ran out of the _sala_. The two men both automatically rose. Diego took half a dozen steps to follow his wife, then stopped and turned back to his father. "You must not upset her like that!" he declared, anger in his voice.

Alejandro's face showed astonishment. " _I_ must not upset _her_?" he asked. " _I_ , who have spent a lifetime successfully running cattle and building this _rancho_ into one of the finest in all of California must not upset a relative newcomer who knows next to nothing about cattle?" He picked up his wine glass and drained it. "Pray tell me, Diego, exactly _why_ should I not upset her?"

"Because she is with child!" he snapped. The words were out of Diego's mouth before he could stop himself.

Alejandro's jaw dropped, and his wine glass fell to the floor and shattered. "Diego! Truly?! Why didn't you tell me before?"

"She has suspected for some time, but she only became sure earlier today when she visited Doctor Avila. We were planning on telling you after dinner and celebrating with brandy, but obviously that won't be happening. And now I must go to my wife." With that he turned and left the room.

When Diego entered their bedroom Margarita was sitting on the edge of their bed wiping her eyes. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. "Well, I told him," Diego said flatly. "It just came out. I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I don't know what came over me."

Diego sighed. "I'm sure he is happy. But let us leave him alone for the rest of the evening. And tomorrow we will go and tell your father our wonderful news. I'm sure that he will be overjoyed."

The next morning Diego made sure to come downstairs before Margarita did. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say to his father, but he _was_ sure he didn't want a repeat of the previous evening's heated exchange. He need not have worried. As he crossed the _sala_ he noticed that the place at the head of the table was not set. When Arturo entered bearing pitchers of Diego's _champurrado_ and Margarita's coffee, he asked: "Where is my father?"

"He went out very early," came the steward's reply.

"Do you know where he has gone?"

"I am afraid not, _patròn_. He just said he would be gone most of the day."

Diego sighed, not entirely unhappy that this conversation with his father was now postponed. A few minutes later Margarita joined him at the breakfast table. " _Buenos dias_ again _, querida_!" he greeted her, rising as she approach and then leaning across the table to fill her coffee cup.

"I thought that was Arturo's job," she replied, smiling at her husband as she sat down.

"I wouldn't want to overwork him," Diego quipped, sitting down himself and sipping his own morning beverage. "Shall we visit your father today and tell him our news?"

Her face darkened for just an instant and then she recovered and said, "Yes. Now that your father knows, my father should know too."

Diego took the precaution of sending a rider ahead to let Colonel Sheraton know they were coming, so when he and Margarita arrived in the buggy, the Colonel was at hand to greet them. Diego helped his wife down from her seat, and she ran up to her father and hugged him. "Papa!" she said, throwing her arms around him. Then she held him at arm's length for a moment. "You're looking well! Concepciòn must be feeding you lots of those _churros_ you like so much!"

" _Sí_ Señora," said the cook, who had also come out to greet them. "I am taking very good care of him."

"I still miss you, Maggie," said her father, gazing at her face. "But seeing how happy Diego has made you, it's a small price to pay." He turned to his son-in-law. "Diego, how are you? How is everything at the _Rancho_ De la Vega? Is Alejandro well?"

"We are all fine, _mi suegro_ ," he replied.

"Well, let's go in," urged Maggie's father. But as they crossed the threshold into the _hacienda_ , he glanced back over his shoulder at the rig they had arrived in. "You came in the buggy, I see. Maggie, are you not feeling well?"

"No, Papa," she replied, her enigmatic smile returning. "I'm quite fine."

"You're not hurt in some way?"

"No, Papa," still smiling.

"Thunderhead lame?"

"No, Papa," smiling and shaking her head.

Colonel Sheraton looked at Diego, but he was no help. He was smiling too.

"All right, young lady, out with it!" her father insisted. I haven't seen a woman smile like that since your mother told me she was — No! Maggie, are you —?!"

"Yes, Papa," she finally admitted. "You're going to be a grandfather!"

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "Oh my dear, dear daughter!" he crooned softly, then released her. "When?"

"Late spring, if I've figured correctly."

"If only your mother were here for this! It would mean the world to her..." His voice trailed off.

"I know, Papa."

The Colonel suddenly remembered Diego, who was standing a little apart to give them a moment together. "And Diego! Congratulations, son!" he cried, pumping Diego's hand and slapping him on the shoulder. "Think you are ready for fatherhood?"

"I certainly had better be. But happily both Margarita and I have a little time to get used to the idea of becoming parents. Perhaps you can give me some pointers as we get closer?" was the young don's engaging reply.

"I'll be happy to if I can remember any," laughed Colonel Sheraton. "Alejandro must be beside himself!"

"Oh, he was very emotional!" said Diego, thinking of the previous evening.

"And now let's find some of the really good brandy that Don Alfonso left us," said the colonel, guiding them into the _hacienda_.

When Diego and Margarita returned to the _Rancho_ De la Vega they found Don Alejandro waiting for them out on the patio. " _Por favor_ , if I could speak to the two of you for a moment?"

Diego was a little apprehensive but he replied evenly, "Of course, Father." Diego guided Margarita to the stone bench surrounding the willow tree and she sat down. Her husband came and stood beside her.

Alejandro walked over to his daughter-in-law. "Margarita," he began, "I wish to apologize for my outburst yesterday evening. Perhaps I was overtired or perhaps I had eaten too much too fast. Whatever the case, my conduct was inexcusable."

" _Mi suegro_ ," she replied, still not quite able to call him anything less formal, "it was my fault, too. I didn't mean to question your judgment. I just expressed myself without thinking."

" _Muchas gracias_ for your understanding. And now," said the elder De la Vega, his face brightening considerably, about you wonderful news! When is this precious gift of heaven due to arrive?"

"Late spring, we think, Father." interjected Diego, who, though he understood what making an apology cost his normally proud father, still found it a little formal.

"Then we must take special care of this señora and her little one until then! And you must tell me everything that you and the child will require. I will see that it is provided!"


	4. Awaiting

The Dream Fulfilled  
4 - _Awaiting_

Chapter 4: Awaiting

Once the family knew, it was no time at all until the servants in both the De la Vega and the Sheraton _haciendas_ knew of Doña Margarita's "indisposition". And thanks to the fastest means of communication known — servants' gossip on market day — it was not long before most of the _pueblo_ was aware of the coming event.

And so the seasons ran their course. Diego's wife went into the _pueblo_ on market day only two or three times more, for two reasons: First, her level of fatigue became such that she preferred not to go, even in a carriage. Second, she decided she had had enough of the _pueblo's_ attention when she began gritting her teeth after hearing someone ask for the twentieth time, "How are you feeling today, Señora?"

Doña Elvira Ramirez came calling one day with Luisa, bringing patterns for various layette items and advice on how many of each would be needed. Cresencia scoured every storage bin and every cupboard and finally found the family's christening gown and the cradle used by baby Diego. Doña Luisa Torres, Doña Maria Pérez, and several other _doñas_ came calling, bringing gifts of small blankets, tiny infant gowns, and tea preparations said to ease backache and swollen feet. And stories. Endless stories of their own experiences of childbirth.

Diego, although he loved his wife more than life itself, found all of this bewildering. When he heard another landowner's carriage pull up to the _hacienda_ , he often fled to the stables and started grooming a horse — any horse, whether the horse needed grooming or not. Occasionally he went down to the cave and took Tornado for a good long run. Don Alejandro, who had vague memories of Isabella's "indisposition", never failed to find some very pressing business to attend to in his study. Faithful Bernardo always came to alert each of them once the doñas had departed.

In the afternoon, when she grew tired, they often sat out on the patio. Sometimes Diego would sometimes read to her. Sometimes he would play his guitar. The servants tended to hover, making sure that fresh _lemonada_ was always at hand.

Margarita had been asleep for some time, but noise in the secret room now woke her. She hefted herself out of the bed, picked up a shawl, and pushed the button on the mantle. The panel swung in and she found Diego just arriving, with Bernardo coming up behind him on the stone staircase. She took two steps into the room and held out her hand for the mask her husband had just removed. "Ah, _querida_!" he smiled at her. "Are you well?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine, all things considered. I've been fairly comfortable tonight. Let me help you change."

But in the small space it was easier said than done. In the process of shedding his cape Diego managed to elbow his wife into a corner. In trying to hang the cape up, Margarita bumped into the table and jarred the lantern, almost knocking it over and starting a fire. Then Bernardo, taking the sword and attempting to hang it up, poked her in the back with it, knocking her off-balance until her black-clad husband got his arm around her. Diego held her, laughing and shaking his head. "Margarita, _mi amor_ , I'm afraid there is not space enough for the three of us — or perhaps I should say the four of us — in this little room. _Por favor_ , go back to our bedroom and wait for me there." She could only agree.

When he finally emerged into the bedroom and the panel swing shut behind him, she asked, "What did you find?"

"Nothing, really," was his reply. Two days ago one of the _vaqueros_ had reported seeing a small band of unidentified men camping near Coalinga pass. The men did not seem to be doing anything suspicious, but Zorro had decided to investigate, just in case. "I found the campsite, but the firepit was stone cold. There was some rain yesterday afternoon, and I saw no fresh tracks in the wet ground. I did meet a shepherd grazing his small flock in the area. He told me that four days ago a group of men had approached him about buying a lamb for a meal. They paid him a fair price for it and he killed and dressed it for them. These men were not very talkative about who they were or where they were going, but the shepherd was able to gather that they were heading south for some contracted work. I believe they have left the area, and it appears that they have done no harm, so I see no need to ride out again.

"I'm certainly in favor of that," replied his wife. "A night with my husband by my side is always preferable to a night by myself in our bed."

He slid in beside her and after a moment said, " _Querida_ , I am wondering about what should happen to Zorro after the baby comes. Perhaps he should leave again?"

"It's true, our having a child changes things. But if Zorro suddenly disappears I think the residents of Los Angeles would be alarmed. Zorro, which is to say you as Zorro, for you are still only one man, means so much to them. I don't think you can just walk away."

"But I will have the responsibilities of a father as well as those of a husband. Can I continue to take the risk?"

"Risk or not, if someone was in danger, or if the _pueblo_ itself was in danger, you couldn't stop riding as Zorro any more than you could stop breathing. But the _pueblo_ has been peaceful for a while now. Let's just hope it stays that way."

"Yes, let us hope it stays that way. Sleep well, _querida_." And he placed his hand on her belly and kissed her.


	5. Arrival

The Dream Fulfilled  
5 - _Arrival_

Chapter 5: Arrival

 **A/N:** _Nieto/a_ means "grandson/daughter" in Spanish.

I really think you should go tomorrow," she advised Diego. "You heard what Doctor Avila said this morning. He thinks it will be a week, maybe even two, before the baby arrives. You've been cooped up here with me for five days now, and even if you can't tell that you're restless, I can." He looked at her, considering her words. The following day his father and a few other dons were going to ride over to _Rancho_ Santil to see if the tannery built by Carlos Urista could be put to some use that would not poison the river. He had to admit that he would enjoy getting out of the _hacienda_.

"Are you sure that you will be all right?" he asked.

"Diego, I'm surrounded by people trying to take care of me. If I decide to take a nap in our room, Cresencia brings in her mending. If I sit on the patio in the sunshine, Buena comes out and starts sweeping. If I stay here in the _sala_ and read a book, Bernardo finds something that needs to be polished. The king of Spain isn't as well guarded as I am!" she laughed.

"As long as you are certain," he replied, still somewhat unsure about leaving her. "I think I would enjoy getting out, but I don't want to abandon you so close to —"

"Abandon me!" she exclaimed. "I'm practically ordering you out of my sight! Besides, it will only be for a few hours and you know Benito is keeping a horse saddled and ready to ride for Doctor Avila at a moment's notice. Although I did make him promise him to change the horse every few hours or so."

"Very well, _querida_ ," her husband conceded, dropping onto the sofa beside her, lightly kissing her cheek, and placing his hand on her now-large belly, "I will tell my father that I will accompany him tomorrow. And now, shall I bring my guitar and play for you a while?"

Coming down for an an early breakfast, Diego was surprised to see his father still in his dressing gown and a cane leaning against the edge of the table. "My gout again," growled Don Alejandro in response to his son's puzzled look. "I cannot ride. I'm afraid you will have to go alone."

"Perhaps we could take the carriage?" asked Diego, knowing full well that his father would never allow himself to be driven to a meeting with the other dons in a carriage.

"Bah!" replied his father. "At least come and have breakfast with me."

After he finished eating, Diego rode out to meet with the other dons at the _Rancho_ Santil. The men proceeded together to the now-abandoned tannery and first stopped a short way away on a small hill where they could look down on the entire operation. Reviving the tannery was out of the question. The spring into which Señor Urista had dumped his foul residue flowed into the river that provided water for at least half a dozen _ranchos_. Many cattle had sickened and died. Fortunately Zorro had managed to "convince" Señor Urista to sell everything back to young Don Ramon and quickly leave town.

The group descended into the tannery proper. The workshop buildings were sturdy and might be put to another use. But the soaking vats, now empty, still reeked of their various contents and would have to be filled in, requiring much labor and much expense. The dons eventually shook their heads. Beyond filing in the vats and simply returning the land to grazing, no one had any ideas.

The men returned to Don Ramon's _hacienda_ for lunch. They had finished the meal and were lingering in conversation over the last of their wine when they heard hoofbeats, approaching fast. Moments later one of the De la Vega _vaqueros_ was shown into the _sala_. "Don Diego!" he cried. "You must return! The baby is coming!"

Don Ramon looked at his guest. "I thought you told me Doctor Avila said another week."

"He did!" exclaimed Diego, suddenly feeling a twinge of panic. "Evidently he was wrong! Señores," he said, rising, "I hope you will excuse me. I seem to have a very pressing family matter to attend to!"

The men rose as a group, all smiling and wishing him well. Several of the dons walked out with him to where a servant held Diego's horse at the ready. He mounted quickly and was about to turn the animal away when one of the dons grabbed the bridle. "Don Diego, you may make haste, but, _por favor_ , do not be reckless. I have five children and I can tell you from experience that the coming of a baby sometimes takes a _very_ long time," he declared, smiling at the soon-to-be father.

" _Gracias_ , I shall try to remember that," was Diego's reply as he turned his palomino and cantered of the yard.

As Diego entered through the patio gate he met Cresencia, carrying a stack of towels, at the foot of the stairs. "How is Margarita?" he asked, anxiously.

"She is doing well, _Patròn_ , and there is no need for you to be alarmed. Doctor Avila arrived a few minutes ago, and all is going as it should," the housekeeper replied.

"May I see her?"

"I think you can go up for a few moments now."

Diego bolted up the stairs. On the balcony, he pushed the door to their room open slowly. "May I come in?"

The doctor looked at him and nodded. "For a few minutes."

The young don crossed the room and took his wife's outstretched hands as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Margarita... _querida_...how are you?"

"Doctor Avila says I'm fine and Cresencia agrees with him, so it must be true. The pains have started but they're not too bad yet." She hoped she sounded more or less normal, although she was not at all sure what was normal for a woman giving birth to her first child. "Tell me, what did you find at the tannery? Can it be put to another use?

"None that anyone could think of. The place still reeks of the tanning fluids. It will probably still reek even if the vats are filled in. Cattle might be able to graze there _if_ they could stand the stench." He shrugged his shoulders. "With everyone now having seen the place perhaps an idea will come in the future."

"Yes, perhaps in time someone will think of — Oh. OH!" she cried, suddenly clutching his hands hard, her eyes wide with the pain. Diego looked at the doctor in alarm.

"It is just a normal birth pain, Diego," said Doctor Avila gently. "I think it would be best for you to leave now. Go find something to do. Something that will take a little time." His father's old friend gently shepherded him out the door.

As he descended the steps, Diego heard Don Alejandro call from the patio: "Come, Diego, let us play some chess to pass the time." The two men went into the _sala_ and set up the chessboard. Not surprisingly, Diego's concentration was poor. Normally the better player of the two, the younger De la Vega lost to his father in eleven moves. "Your mind is not on the game, which is understandable," said Don Alejandro gently. Let us play again." When Diego lost his fourth game to his father, this time in only eight moves, he threw up his hands and decided perhaps reading a book would be better.

He fled to Don Alejandro's study and chose a history book, one of his favorites. He was able to read for perhaps an hour when he suddenly realized he had been staring at the same page for at least ten minutes. He tried again to concentrate, but a few minutes later heard loud voices from the patio. He ran out to the _sala_. "Anything?" he inquired anxiously.

"I am afraid not, Don Diego," replied Arturo the steward. "It was just Cresencia calling for more of the special tea." Now, stiff from sitting and reading, Diego paced. And paced. And paced some more.

After half an hour he decided to try the stables. In one of the forward stalls he found _Duende_ , the mare that had balked and thrown Margarita the night of the storm. He remembered how gently Zorro had to hold her because of her injured shoulder as he brought her back to the _hacienda_. That night was the first time he had experienced strong feelings toward Maggie Emerson. And now she was upstairs, bringing their child into the world. He led the mare out of the stall, picking up a currycomb on the way. After he had been grooming the horse for some time, he saw Pablo, one of their ranch hands, walking towards him with an odd smile on his face and shaking his head.

"Your pardon, _patròn_ ," the man began, "but when we comb out a horse it is customary to groom the entire animal, not just a single spot." Diego was puzzled until he looked at Duende's back. Based on the pattern left by the comb's teeth it was evident he had been grooming the same area for the better part of an hour. He wondered that he had not created a raw patch on the animal's skin. Pablo reached out and relieved him of the currycomb. "I think the horses will be safer if you return to the _sala_ " declared the _vaquero_. Diego sighed and started back across the stableyard to the _hacienda_.

Back in the patio he was pacing again, and his anxiety was beginning to get the better of him. Servants came and went and all anyone would tell him was: "Everything is progressing as it should." Even Bernardo, carrying an extra pitcher of water, just smiled briefly at him and hurried up the steps.

Don Alejandro came out to join his son. "I don't understand why this is taking so long!" cried Diego in frustration. "Is there nothing anyone can do?"

"I am afraid not. Welcome to your first taste of fatherhood," smiled the old don, patting his son on the back. "Babies come when they will. Besides, the patience you learn today will serve you well in —.

And there it was! From above there came a baby's cry! Both men stared up at the balcony and the door to the bedroom. The door opened and Cresencia came out and down the steps, carrying a basin covered by a towel. Diego, starting toward the stairs, met her just at the foot. "Oh no, _patròn_ , you cannot go up just yet."

"Why not?! Is something wrong?" he asked, alarmed.

"Let us just say that there is some…mmm...'tidying up' to do." she replied calmly. "We will call you when all is ready."

"But how is my wife?"

"Oh, they are both well, _patròn_." And she hurried off before he could ask anything more.

As it turned out he did not have much longer to wait. About fifteen minutes later Cresencia appeared on the balcony. "Don Diego, you may come up now."

He bounded up the stairs two at a time. At the door he was met by the Doctor, rolling down his sleeves. "Congratulations, Diego. A fine healthy boy! And you wife is fine as well."

Diego turned back to the patio and leaned over the balcony railing. "Father!" he shouted, practically at the top of his lungs, "you have a grandson!"

Down below Don Alejandro bowed his silver head and brought his clasped hands to his forehead, his lips moving in a silent prayer of thanksgiving.

Diego moved softly across the room to the bed where Margarita sat propped up on pillows. She looked much as she did when he had seen her earlier — except now she was holding a bundle. As her husband sat down gently and leaned over to the two of them she moved a fold of the soft blanket out of the way. "Diego, _caro_ ," she said, her face shining, "meet our son. He's perfect! He's beautiful!" He saw a tiny, round, pink, wrinkled little face. He touched a tiny hand and its fingers grasped his own. For a brief moment eyes hazel like his own looked up at him before they closed again in sleep. He could feel tears forming.

"I...I have no words..." he began, the joy in his face mirroring the joy in hers. He took one of her hands and pressed it to his lips. "I cannot...I...I feel such happiness I think my heart will burst. Margarita, we are a family!" He kissed her hand again and gazed at his son for a few moments. "And you are...?" he asked.

"I am very tired. But I am well, don't worry." She squeezed his hand.

Diego looked at her and continued: "If you would agree, I would like very much to name him after my father."

"A little 'Alejandro De la Vega'? Are you sure the world is big enough for a second one?" she teased. She paused for a moment. "Well, only if you are willing to be fair."

"And by 'fair' you mean?"

"Alejandro _Roberto_ "

"Ah! Your father. Of course! 'Alejandro Roberto De la Vega'."

"Almost," she said.

"Almost?"

"Alejandro Roberto De la Vega y Sheraton"

"A large name for such a little one," he observed with a grin.

"He'll grow into it!" She started to shift her position but grimaced and settled back on the pillows again. Doctor Avila appeared at Diego's elbow.

"Your wife must rest now. It will be some time before your son needs to be fed, and she should sleep as much as possible while she can. Perhaps you would care to present your son to his grandfather?"

"Me? Uh...I have never held a baby...what if I drop him?"

"Cresencia can carry the little one," smiled the Doctor. But you will have to find the courage to hold your son sooner or later."

"You are right, I know. But at this moment, when I am so unsettled, I choose 'later'." Cresencia came to the bedside and Margarita relinquished the infant. "Rest well, _querida_." Diego kissed her again then left the room, followed by the housekeeper holding little Alejandro. "Father!" the young don called from the top of the patio stairs, "come and meet your grandson!" Don Alejandro watched the two of them descend the steps, his heart racing. He had hoped and dreamed of this moment for years, and now it was really happening. He took the child from Cresencia and stared at the tiny face.

"Welcome, _mi nieto_ " crooned Alejandro softly.

"Father!" exclaimed Diego in surprise. "Since when do you know how to hold a baby?"

The old don shot his son an annoyed look. "By all the saints, Diego, who do you think held _you_ when your mother was busy or tired or ill?"

"Cresencia?" he ventured.

Don Alejandro sighed in exasperation. "Yes, sometimes. But I held you often as well. But never mind, have you chosen a name for him?"

Diego beamed at his father: "Alejandro Roberto De la Vega y Sheraton."

And now tears began to fill the old don's eyes. "Gracias, Diego," he said gently. "After the way I treated you when you first returned from Spain I thought you would perhaps not wish to use my name."

"Never that, Father," Diego replied gently.

Then Alejandro looked again at Diego. "And how is Margarita?"

"She is well and resting."

The baby began to stir in his grandfather's arms. "I think this young man needs his cradle," observed the elder De la Vega, handing the infant back to the housekeeper. "And Cresencia, please tell Margarita that we have sent a rider to _Rancho_ Flores and the Colonel should be here shortly." She took the child carefully in her arms, nodded, then headed back up to the bedroom. "And you, my son," he said, pointing at Diego, "you need a brandy. For that matter, I need one also." And together, arms across each other's shoulders, they headed into the _sala_.


	6. Remembrance

The Dream Fulfilled  
6 - _Remembrance_

Chapter 6: Remembrance

It had been a quiet two weeks. Early in the evening of little Alejandro's birth the Margarita's father arrived to see his new grandson. Between visiting with his daughter, holding the infant, telling stories about Margarita as a baby (well out of her hearing, of course), and playing chess with Don Alejandro Colonel Sheraton ended up staying two days. Riders were dispatched to all the _ranchos_ in the area with the happy news. They returned with notes of congratulations and prayers for the health of both mother and baby. By custom, no one would call at the _hacienda_ for at least a month to allow the household to adjust to the new arrival in peace. Visits to see the little one would come later. Diego and Margarita began to discuss a date for the christening.

The newest De la Vega proved to be a very demanding young man. He wanted to be fed at inconvenient hours, depriving his parents of sleep. He created much extra laundry which the servants all did with smiles on their faces. Bernardo, in spite of his "deafness", developed the uncanny ability to tell when the baby was crying. He indicated he could somehow "feel" the cries in the air. The residents of Los Angeles miraculously seemed to be on their best behavior, giving Zorro no reason whatever to ride. This was a blessing, for Señor Zorro's sleep was reduced as it was. Sergeant Garcia wondered aloud — and often — if "Demetrio" was perhaps a more dignified middle name than "Roberto".

Don Alejandro was returning from a brief visit to _Rancho_ Torres. He and Don Nacho had discussed various breeding combinations among their prize horses. The elder De la Vega had handed the reins to a waiting servant and pushed open the patio gate half-way. And stopped. There, on the stone bench surrounding the willow tree, sat Margarita, holding her infant son and enjoying the soft air and dappled sunlight.

And in that moment the years fell away and Alejandro saw in his mind's eye not a chestnut-haired woman with sea-green eyes but a raven-haired woman with sparkling dark eyes, sitting on a simple wooden bench — for the stone bench had not yet been built — holding a smiling dark-haired baby. And in that moment his heart was as full of love for Isabella as it had been on the day he married her. He remembered that the two of them had wanted many things for their son's future: security, comfort, position in the community. But also happiness. Always happiness. And now he knew that Isabella would upbraid him for his refusal to truly embrace the woman that Diego had chosen for his wife. Her voice came echoing into his thoughts:

 _You old fool!_

And she was the only one who could ever call him a fool without resulting swordplay.

 _Blood is important, yes. But some things are more important. Look at her! She is strong and beautiful and she has made our son happy. She risked her very life for his sake. She does not shrink from his work as Zorro, she embraces it… And she has given us the child that takes our name to the next generation. What more could you wish for in Diego's wife?...What more?"_ asked the fading voice of Isabella De la Vega _._

Suddenly returning to the present, Alejandro knew she was right. "What more, indeed," he said softly aloud, to no one in particular. He crossed the patio and sat down beside Margarita. " _Buenos tardes, mi hija_."

She looked up, a little startled. He had never actually called her "daughter" before. " _Buenos tardes_ ," she replied, smiling at him.

"How fares our little one today?"

"He's doing very well. I know he's growing, I can feel him getting heavier. And he slept through a good part of the night last night. Perhaps it won't be too long before Diego and I can get a full night's sleep."

The old don reached over and stroked his grandson's downy cheek. "Yes, he seems to be thriving." Now he looked straight at her. "Margarita, you are a wonderful mother. And you are a wonderful wife to my son." He took one of her hands and kissed it. "For this I thank you with all my heart. I know I am a proud and stubborn old man, arrogant sometimes. But I could not be happier that you have become a part of our family."

This declaration was so unlike Diego's father she didn't know what to say. Finally she managed: "Thank you, _Papá_ ," the Spanish word of endearment passing her lips without thought or effort.

"Father!" called Diego, emerging from the _sala_. "Welcome back! Arturo is looking for you. He wants to know which vintage to decant for tonight's dinner."

"Ah, I had forgotten about that. Perhaps he and I should go to the cellar and decide." With that, Don Alejandro kissed his grandson, stood, nodded a " _Con permiso_ ," and headed toward the _hacienda_ door.

Diego came and sat down beside his wife and son. "You two appeared to be having a pleasant conversation," he observed.

"Yes, I don't understand it. Your father seemed very different for some reason. He even kissed my hand. He never does that." She looked her husband straight in the eye. "Diego, did you have some kind of conversation with him?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "I did not. As far as I know, no one has spoken to him."

But of course, Isabella had.

********** FIN **********


End file.
